Alvarez said nothing.
"Lieutenant, tell those soldiers crossing the bridge that Mexico's bridge will always be open for them. Mexico's water will always be ready for them. Mexico's white flag will always be raised for them. Crossing the bridge means going home. Not crossing the bridge means waiting for home. Where is home? Home is in a place of peace. Where is peace? Peace is on the other side of the bridge."
The call ended.
Alvarez sat there, holding the phone, listening to the busy signal. The fog on the lake began to dissipate. The sun peered from behind the eastern hills, reflecting on the water, shattering into a golden starry display.
He picked up the cup of coffee next to him and poured it into the lake. Then he poured a new cup, placing it beside the table.
"President Assad, the coffee is still warm. Come back and drink it."
Aleppo, Northern Suburbs Battlefield
Maher's tank charged at the forefront.
